64 Days of Sunshine
by Sir-Not-Appearing-In-This-Show
Summary: 64 Prompts. 64 Fics. Most of them will be Shules.
1. Needle

Juliet O'Hara didn't scare easily. Sure, as a kid she was afraid of bugs and walking too close to the haunted house down the street, but other than that she was normally pretty strong. She had to be, as a cop. She could take down perps, chase suspects and question hostile witnesses all day long if need be. But there was still one thing that frightened her. One thing that made her hands shake and her eyes grow wide. Juliet O'Hara was afraid of needles.

It was a perfectly rational fear, she thought. After all, they were long and sharp and scary-looking, and she'd seen countless cases where someone was injected with some sort of drug and died. So it made perfect sense that she was scared of those awful, awful things.

She'd still never told anyone, though. It would be highly embarrassing to be known around the station as 'the girl who was terrified of needles'. But when the doctor pulled something long and pointy out of the bag next to the bed she was currently sitting on, Juliet decided that being known as 'the girl who was terrified of needles' was better than being known as 'the girl who ran away screaming from the hospital'.

"Are you ready, Detective?"

Juliet felt her mouth go dry, and she slowly inched further away from the doctor. She wasn't even sure why getting hit in the head with a piece of wood by an extremely beefy suspect required that she get blood drawn, but both Carlton and the Chief had insisted.

"Detective?" Dr. Hendricks came closer, a confused look upon his face. "Are you alright?"

"I... uhm..." She couldn't even speak. Not when that _thing _was so close to her.

"Jules!"

He couldn't have had better timing.

"Sh-Shawn." She jumped up from the bed joyfully and took a few steps towards him, making sure to stay as far away from the doctor as possible.

Shawn shut the door and smiled widely at her. "How's tricks?"

"I'm sorry, but you're not allowed in here." Dr. Hendricks opened the door again and motioned towards the hall.

"Oh, she's not contagious, is she?" He asked, moving even closer to her.

"No, but you really need to leave, Mr..."

"Spencer!" Shawn turned towards the doctor and smiled. "Shawn Spencer, I work with the police... sometimes."

"I don't care who you work with, Mr. Spencer, I was in the middle of something."

He nodded slowly, then gave the room a quick once-over. "Well, it couldn't have been that important because Jules isn't even wearing a hospital gown. Which, by the way, she looks great in." He turned back to her and winked.

She smiled softly, remembering the last time they were in a hospital room together._ That's it!_

And it's like a light bulb went off over her head. She could get through this, as long as she thought about something else. She smiled broadly at Shawn and sat back down on the bed.

"I'm ready now, Doctor."

"That's great, Detective, but he still needs to leave." By now Dr. Hendricks had passed mildly annoyed, and Juliet knew she needed to do something before Shawn added the Santa Barbara Hospital to the list of places he had been kicked out of.

"I need him to stay." She said, trying her best to make her voice sound sure.

He turned to her quickly, his eyebrows raised. "Jules? You okay?"

She threaded her fingers through his and watched as the doctor took the plastic off of the needle.

"I'm fine."


	2. Locks

**Pretty big spoilers for Mr. Yin Presents. And I mean pretty big. If you haven't seen the episode yet, I highly suggest doing that now because A) it's amazing, and B) this won't make sense it you don't.**

**By the way, there is no Shules in this. I know, I'm disappointed too, but this is really more of just a Jules piece. With a hint of Jules&Lassie BFFness. But only BFFness.**

**I'm still pretty iffy on this one, so please, tell me what you think.  
**

* * *

The day after 'the incident', she goes out and buys new locks. She prefers to think of it as 'the incident', rather than 'the day she was kidnapped by a serial killer and almost fell off a clock tower'. It's simpler that way.

She broke down that day. Something about being dangled off the side of a building with nothing but a gazillion feet of air between the chair and the hard cement ground made her snap. And she knows that it's purely selfish, but after Lassiter briefed her on what had happened to Abigail, she found herself wishing she had been the one under the pier. Not because Shawn would have saved her, not because she wants to be the one he chose, but simply because she reckons that being submerged under water for a short amount of time is better than being faced with your impending death for over an hour. Then again, she's not Abigail, she wasn't under the pier, and she doesn't know what it was like. It was probably horrible.

She doesn't think she's ever cried this much. Not even when she was ten and Ewan shoved her in a shopping cart and pushed her down the hill. That hurt more than she can remember, but this is way worse. Because it's not a physical pain, and she doesn't have any scars. Nothing that says 'Hey! I was just kidnapped!' People can't tell from the outside.

But she knows. Knows that the pain isn't going to go away with a pink Power Ranger band-aid. Knows that she's never going to feel the same. Knows that nobody at the station will ever look at her the same. Even Lassiter.

He was there when she broke down, he held her and told her everything was going to be okay. And she knows that as weird as it may seem, that was the best she'd felt all day. And she thanks god that he was the one who saved her, because it's been four years and she would have done the same for him.

She has nightmares. Almost every night, the majority of them about falling into nothingness. Just her, slipping off of that chair and sliding into a big, black, empty pit. She wakes up screaming, her body curled into a ball and her hair matted to her forehead.

She doesn't tell anyone. The Chief insisted that she see the department psychiatrist, and she did, but she only had to go to one session before being deemed fit to work and she isn't about to go request more. She isn't going to admit that she's turning into some kind of nutcase.

A nutcase who only gets approximately three hours of sleep each night. A nutcase who refuses to look out the windows of particularly high buildings. A nutcase who feels the need to check the locks on her door every five minutes.

Double bolts. New. Shiny. Sturdy.

She still doesn't feel safe.

* * *

**This sort of took on a mind of it's own, and I apologize. I'm not exactly sure if this is what I was going for, but it'll have to do.**

**As always, reviews make me a very happy person.**


	3. Hunger

**Taking a break from the depressing-ness that was the last chapter (sorry about that), I'm going to dive into something a lot fluffier.**

**And a lot Shulesier. (Shulesy? Shulsiest? Whatever. It's got Shules in it people. Fair warning.)  
**

* * *

Shawn Spencer was hungry. Really hungry. Like, really, _really_ hungry. Normally that wouldn't be a problem, he would just get up, trudge over to the fridge**, **and cut up some pineapple for a midnight snack. Or a 2 am snack. Maybe an extremely early breakfast? He would have to consult Gus on what exactly to call this. Either way, his tummy was making the rumblies. And he needed to act fast.

Of course, acting would have been a lot easier if he didn't currently have a very cute blond junior detective sprawled across his chest. Not that he had any complaints about that. It was actually his favorite part of this whole situation. Still, if he didn't get something to eat soon he was going to die of malnutrition. Probably.

He began to slowly slide towards the side of the bed, doing his best to push Juliet off of him. She responded by groaning and wrapping her arms tighter around his waist.

"No, Jules... Let go please." He paused, hoping somehow his plea had made it into her dreams. Nothing.

"Okay, I'm really hungry, Jules... so I gotta go." He tried moving again, only to be pulled closer to her warm body. This would be absolutely perfect, if only he had installed that zip line pulley into their bedroom. He would have to start on that asap.

He finally managed to pry away her arms, and slipped off the edge of the bed, carefully placing both on his feet on the wooden floor. The last thing he wanted to do was wake her up. He'd learned very quickly that waking Jules up for anything short of an emergency was a _bad_ idea.

She moaned softly when he left, but didn't seem to care all that much because she gathered up the covers and didn't move. He smiled softly. He'd never told her, but he thought she looked absolutely beautiful when she slept.

His stomach rumbled again and he remembered why he had disturbed her sleep. Opening up the fridge, he peered past half eaten Chinese take out and particularly prickly fruits until he found what he was looking for. Cold pizza was always the best midnight snack. He polished off about two and a half slices before he felt full, and then ate another one just for good measure. The last thing he wanted was to be forced to leave that warm, Juliet-filled bed again.

When he finally crawled back under the covers she was awake, and he pressed his lips to her forehead before wrapping his arms around her.

"Shawn?" She mumbled.

"Yeah?"

"You smell like pizza."

* * *

**As always... Reviews make me a very, very happy girl.**

**;) [Yes, that was meant to be suggestive.]**


	4. Color

**More fluffy, established Shules.**

**It's just so addicting.**

**

* * *

**"Jules... Can we take a break?" Shawn let his paint roller drop to the ground and sighed. "Please?"

Juliet took a step back and admired their work. There were cans of paint rolling around on the ground, old sheets and plastic bags covering the floor, all of Shawn's' furniture was shoved into the middle of the room, and his entire bedroom was dark blue.

Midnight blue, to be exact.

They'd been painting for most of the day. She'd come over to his new apartment extra early, armed with muffins (Pineapple, of course, after he'd shown her the only coffee shop in Santa Barbara that made them), coffee, and three cans of paint. And they had become and unstoppable team.

"We did good." He said, wrapping both arms around her waist.

She sighed and leaned back, closing her eyes. "We certainly did." She was dangerously close to dozing off in his arms when something wet slapped her in the face.

"Shawn!"

He backed into the wall, holding the paintbrush out in front of him. "You just look so good in blue, Jules!"

She reached up and wiped off her forehead, slowly reaching down to grab her own brush.

"You asked for it, Spencer."

"Come on, Jules! We both know that you couldn't-_"_

_Slap!_

She stepped back and smirked, dropping the brush on the ground.

"I stand corrected." Shawn pressed his hand against the paint on his shoulder and shrugged. "You know I took this shirt from Gus, right?"

"I guess you're going to have to explain to him how you let your girlfriend paint on his shirt." She laughed.

"I'm sure I can come up with something a little more..." He pulled her into his arms, ignoring her yelps of protest as he placed paint covered hands around her waist. "_Exciting_ than than that."

* * *

**What? You were expecting something longer? Have we not met or something?**

**I'll try and make the next one longer. Maybe.**

**Anyway, I'm going to go all lovey-dovey on you guys and thank you all for reviewing! You guys are the best. :)**


	5. Hold

**Yes, another Yin ficlet.**

**I just loved that episode so much. And Lassie&Jules are my second favorite duo.**

* * *

"No.. Not midnight, it was later. Yes, I'm sure. It was later. Well, I was there, that's how I know."

With each step he takes, Carlton Lassiter can hear his partners voice getting louder and louder. He steps out onto the edge of the clocktower. Can't these forensics guys come back later? It really isn't necessary for them to harass O'Hara right now, they could at least give her a day or two.

He rounds the corner and frowns. O'Hara is clearly upset by now, shaking her head and yelling at the man in front of her.

"No, that's not right!"

Lassiter takes two steps forward, places his hands on the mans shoulders, and shoves him out of the way.

"I'm fine." She says automatically. He almost smiles. He's no longer surprised that she's able to read his mind, and he's glad that four years with the same person has paid off.

"No you're not." It's not a question, it's a statement, and he knows it's true. He's been in this situation before (Maybe not tied to a clock tower, but somewhat close), and he knows that she doesn't feel anywhere close to fine.

"Carlton, I'm fine." She attempts a smile, but it wavers and the next thing he knows tears are falling down her face and she's collapsing against him.

He does the only think he can think of; he wraps his arms around her, holding her tight to his chest. He can feel her tears seeping through his shirt, and he's a little surprised to find that he doesn't care. He simply pulls her closer as she grasps at his arms. He doesn't say anything, he just lets her get it all out. He knows how she feels; trapped and alone, like she has to put on a show for everyone. She needs them to think she's fine. That the whole 'kidnapped by a serial killer thing' is just a bump on the road.

But he knows it's not. And as her tears keep coming, he just holds her and whispers.

"You don't have to be fine."


	6. Animal

**Hello again. Long time no see, huh?**

**Slight reference to Spellingg Bee.**

* * *

Juliet O'Hara was having a good day. No, make that a _very_ good day. She must have gotten something right somewhere down the line, because today was going perfectly. She'd gotten to work on time, managed to avoid upsetting Carlton before he'd has his coffee, and hadn't filled out any paperwork. It was great.

That is, until she had a double homicide outside a bakery.

Even that had started out smoothly, she'd jotted down notes and walked around the tape while Carlton spoke to the witnesses. It looked like a suicide, although she couldn't but wonder why anyone would chose to kill themselves outside of a bakery. But she knew that even mentioning anything like that would result in a very loud lecture from her partner on the way back to the station, so she kept her mouth shut and her eyes on the bodies. She wasn't about to ruin her perfect day.

Until she found _it._

It was hiding under a large box outside by the trash cans, just the tip of it's tail peeking out from underneath. Juliet spotted it when she was doing a final walk around the scene. She knelt down next to it carefully, unsure of exactly what was inside. She gingerly lifted the box off, expecting the thing to run away as soon as it saw her.

Instead, it came closer.

"Awwww!"

* * *

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No, O'Hara. And that's final."

"But it looks so cute!"

"It's probably full of diseases, put the thing back where you found it so we can leave." Head Detective Carlton Lassiter turned towards his partner a final time and shook his head. "Now lets go."

"But it's all alone... and helpless." Juliet turned her attention back on the young dog that was currently running circles around her ankles. She knelt down and ran her hand along it's back. "Look how adorable it is...It _needs_ us, Carlton. And we took an oath-"

"To help the _citizens_ of Santa Barbara, O'Hara, not some mangy mutt."

At this the dog scampered closer to Lassiters feet, rubbing his head against the mans leg.

"Okay... Maybe he can come back with us. But he only stays at the station for today, if he's not gone by tomorrow I'm putting him on the street myself."

Juliet jumped up and threw her arms around her partner.

"Thank you!" She knelt down next to the dog and wrapped her arms around his neck. "You're coming back with us!"

"Just make sure he stays in the back seat."

* * *

Shawn Spencer loved Wednesdays. For some reason, nobody ever seemed to need them for cases on Wednesdays, which meant that he could spend as much time as he wanted to at the police station. Which, coincidentally enough, ranked number six on his list of favorite places.

Unfortunately, it wasn't nearly as fun when his two favorite detectives weren't there.

Shawn glanced at the clock. 1:30. They must be out on a case. Or something. Whatever it was, it probably wouldn't take them that long. And he was long overdue for a nap. He decided to sleep off that Knight Rider marathon at Juliets desk, her chair was far more comfy than Lassies'.

He pulled her chair out and was about to collapse in it when he saw something move. He stuck his head under the desk, trying to get a clearer look at whatever it was.

Something very wet pressed against his forehead, and the next thing he knew he was being thrown on the ground, and something was attacking his face.

"Randy!"

Shawn could hear Juliets voice from across the room, and he attempted to push this thing off once more. It didn't work.

"Oh, did you make a new friend, Randy? You are such a good little boy... Yes you are!"

Shawn finally opened his eyes when he felt the monster being removed from his chest, and sat up to find Juliet O'Hara cradling it in her arms, pressing kisses on it's head.

"Good? Jules, he tried to eat my face!" Shawn wiped the dog slobber off his cheek and groaned.

"Calm down, Shawn. He was just licking you... He likes you!" Juliet giggled as the dog tried to squirm out of her arms.

"Randy? God, O'Hara. Tell me you didn't name that _thing_."

Shawn looked up to find Lassiter standing over the two of them, his frown deepening.

Juliet rolled her eyes and stood up.

"I know what you're going to say... You're going to tell me 'Don't get attached, O'Hara, it's leaving tomorrow.' But look at his face! Look how cute he is!"

Lassiter raised his eyebrows as the dog continued to attack Shawns face. He smirked silently, then turned to his partner. "It doesn't matter how... 'cute' it is, the thing has to go. You can't keep pets here."

She nodded slowly, glancing down at Randy, who had given up on Shawn and was now licking her leg. "I know. But my building doesn't allow dogs, and I can't give him to the pound, that would be awful..."

Lassiter shook his head as face as he could. "Don't even think about asking me to keep it. You brought it back here, you figure this out." He gave the dog one last look, then turned on his heel and marched away. He was not getting involved in this.

Juliet turned towards Shawn once more, and sunk down onto her knees. "Shawn?"

He took a break from wiping off his face and looked over at her. "Yeah?"

"Can you do me a favor?"

He glanced at the animal that was now ferociously attacking his shoelaces and groaned. "I think I know what you're going to say..."

"_Please_ take care of Randy, Shawn. I'd do it myself but I can only have cats, and besides Buttons wouldn't get along with him."

"I don't think anyone would get along with him, Jules. He's crazy!"

She sighed. "He's just really friendly... And he barks a lot. Which is good, because Gus says you never lock your doors. Dogs ward off burglars."

Shawn groaned, looking down at the animal by his feet, and back up at Juliet, who was doing her best sad face.

"Please, Shawn?"

"Okay, okay... Fine. I'll keep it." He pushed himself to his feet and then extended his hand to Jules, who grinning widely before pulling herself up. "I did sort of make a doghouse like four years ago."

* * *

******Thoughts? Was anybody OOC? I'm feeling a little unsure about this one, so please tell me. :)**  



	7. Flight

**More established Shules.**

**I just love it so much. :)**

* * *

"I'll be back in three days. It's really not that long." Juliet looked up at her boyfriend and sighed. "I'll be back before you know it."

Shawn groaned. "But I don't want you to leave at all, Jules." He grabbed her hand and threaded his fingers through hers. "I'll miss you too much. I just don't know what I'll do while you're gone."

Juliet resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Shawn was definitely cheesy- but undeniably sweet too.

"I'll miss you too, don't worry." She smiled, quickly glancing down at her watch. "I have to go."

"No!" Shawn pulled her closer and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Not yet."

"Shawn, I'm going to miss it."

"Then miss it! You can spend the three days here... With me. It's sunny in Santa Barbara."

"It's sunny in Washington, too."

Shawn let out an exasperated sigh. "But it's not the same. I won't be able to sleep without you, I won't be able to focus, I won't get any work done-"

"You never get any work done." She reminded him.

He shrugged. "True. But it'll be worse now, I'll be thinking of you all day."

"You don't think of me all day normally?" She grinned.

He laughed. "Of course I do!" He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her cheek, leaning his forehead against hers. "Please don't go, Jules."

"I promise I'll come back."

"What if you don't? What if you meet some smart, talented, incredibly attractive guy in Washington and decide to run away together? What then?"

Juliet smiled. "I promise I'll come back, even if I meet some smart, talented, incredibly attractive guy."

"What there's some freak snowstorm and you can't get back for weeks?"

"A snowstorm in April?" She shrugged. "I guess I'd take a train. Or walk."

"You promise?"

"Yes, I promise." She leaned her head again his shoulder. "What's wrong, Shawn?"

"I want you to come back." He looked down at her and pressed his lips together. "In one piece."

"Why wouldn't I come home in one piece?" She pulled back and frowned at him. "What are you talking about?"

He sighed, reaching up and wrapping his hand around a blond curl. "I don't want to lose you. In any way."

"Shawn-"

"What if you get killed? You're a cop, Jules. It could happen any day. What am I going to do then? I can't lose you... Who's going to stay up all night playing Guess Who with me? Gus? He hates that game."

"So that's what this is about." Juliet bit her lip softly. "Okay. Yes, my job is dangerous. Yes, I could die today. But I promise you, Shawn Spencer. I'm going to be returning from this trip." She smiled. "Somehow I don't think anyone at my cousins wedding is going to try and kill me."

"I still don't see why I just can't go with you."

"Maybe next time. Remember Melanie, my friend from college?"

Shawn nodded slowly.

"She's getting married in June. You can come and protect me on that adventure."

He looked up and grinned. "Really?"

"Yeah. If you're up to the job."

He nodded and pulled her against his chest. "I'm always up to that job, Jules."

* * *

**So the prompt was flight... I hope that sort of made itself known. I originally had something much different from this planned out, but you know how these things go. They take on a life of their own, and then they eat your brain.**

**Tell me what you think... Reviews are like pineapples. I enjoy spotting them.**

**That sounds really weird. Please review!**


	8. Children

******Thank you!**  


**Future Shules family!fluff.**

**Oh yeah. I went there.**

**I also threw in a bit of Lassie angst. But just a little sprinkle.**

* * *

Carlton Lassiter had always liked children. Sure, sometimes they were annoying with their sticky hands and general lack of knowledge about anything, but still. He liked them. And he'd always wanted some of his own.

His wife hadn't. Or at least, she had thought that he hadn't. They'd never really had a formal conversation about it- it was just something they had assumed about each other. He'd avoided the topic for a while, then they'd gotten separated, then divorced, and now Carlton was beginning to think that it was just never going to happen. And he was okay with that.

Sort of.

It certainly didn't help that Shawn Spencer was currently doing better in that field that he was.

Carlton could remember how ecstatic Spencer was when O'Hara announced she was pregnant. He had this smile on his face and he was bouncing on his feet the entire time, he couldn't stay still. Carlton still couldn't understand how he had gotten her to agree to marry him, but this was a whole new level.

And apparently being pregnant made O'Hara invalid, because he kept dropping by the station three, four times a day, mostly just to check on her. Every time she would roll her eyes, give him a little smile and say 'I'm fine, Shawn. But thanks for coming by."

He kept touching her, too. Putting his hands on her stomach, her waist, in her hair, pressing his lips to her forehead. It was almost like he had to continually convince himself that she was real.

Carlton thought the whole thing was sickening. Would it have killed them to take their love parade elsewhere?

Even after the baby was born, and O'Hara finally returned to work, he would drop by, and lurk around her desk until they finally got called out on a case. Carlton had thought that having Spencer around while he was working (If you could call what he did working) was bad- but having Spencer around when he wasn't working was way worse. Every time he came in with that little boy all wrapped up in his stroller (O'Hara was constantly telling him the name, and he was constantly forgetting it) Carlton was reminded of what he would probably never have; a family. And it disgusted him.

Never in a million year had Carlton Lassiter thought he would be jealous of Shawn Spencer, but here he was. Spencer had (once again) managed to out do him.

Even right now, as he twirled around the Chiefs office and shouted out random numbers coming from his 'vision', Carlton knew that Spencer had found something they'd missed. Something important that they had overlooked or forgotten.

"Dada?"

But apparently Spencer had forgotten something too.

Carlton whirled around in his chair, finding himself face to face with a toddler who was desperate clutching at the stuffed pineapple in his hands.

Carlton rolled his eyes, then looked towards the Chiefs office. Spencer was still twirling, but now he had something in his hands. Carlton squinted, but he still couldn't make out what it was.

Turning back towards the kid, Carlton scooted his chair closer to him.

"Dada?" The boy asked again, his face scrunched up like he was about to cry.

"He's... uhm, busy right now." Carlton frowned. How old was this kid anyway? The last time he had seen him he couldn't stand up by himself, let alone talk.

"Mama?"

"She's busy too." He sighed, trying in vain to remember where O'Hara had gone. Or what this kids name was. Something with an O... or an E. Evan, maybe? Oliver? Whatever his name was, the kid was currently scooting his way across the floor towards Carltons desk. Once he arrived at his destination, he looked up at the Head Detective with wide blue eyes.

"Can I help you?"

The kid didn't move, just kept staring at him with those doe eyes O'Hara used when she wanted to drive the car.

"Fine." Carlton reached out and scooped the kid into his hands, placing him on his knee like he used to do with his nephews when they were younger. "You can just stay with me until your Dad is done doing whatever it is he does... Or until O'Hara comes back..." Carlton yawned. "Or whatever." He hadn't realized until just now exactly how tired he was. He'd worked overtime on the last two cases, and the lack of sleep was really starting to catch up to him. He could probably just rest his eyes for a moment. The Chief was clearly busy, and it had been a fairly slow day, no one would notice...

"Owen!"

Carltons eyes sprang open again, sitting up straight. O'Hara was in front of him now, holding the little kid in her hands. Owen... So he was right. It did begin with an O.

"I told you not to leave him alone, Shawn!"

Spencer rolled his eyes. "Come on, Jules. He was fine! He found Lassie, and if there's one thing I learned from my childhood it's that if your father ditches you find a police officer. Preferably one that hasn't heard horror stories about you and won't refuse to give you a ride home because your father has paid him to teach you a lesson about sneaking out of the house."

O'Hara frowned, then shook her head. "Thank you, Carlton. For watching him." She pressed a kiss against the side of the little boys head.

Carlton nodded slowly. "Yeah, sure. Anytime."

She smiled widely. "Do you mind if I leave a little early today? We were going to go out to dinner together. All three of us."

Spencer slipped his arms around her waist. "Please, Lassie?"

Carlton paused for a moment before answering. "Of course. It's fine."

O'Haras face lit up. "Thank you!" She said, passing Owen off to Spencer before turning to her desk and beginning to collect her things.

Spencer stared at him for a moment, then nodded. "Thanks, Lassie."

Carlton looked right at the little boy in his arms and nodded. "No problem."

* * *

**Thoughts? You guys know how scared I am of writing Lassie, so tell me if he was OOC please. Actually, tell me if anyone was OOC.**

**Of course, ignore the fact that is was totally AU/future. Then tell me if anyone was OOC.**


	9. Connection

**I apologize for taking so long to update. It was a mixture of writers block and laziness.**

**But I'm back now! With some Shules fluff!  
**

**I really hope you guys weren't expecting something different.

* * *

**

The silence is killing him.

He's never liked the quiet anyway, but now it's ten times worse. Every morning he wakes up and expects to find her laying next to him. He reaches over with a smile on his face, but it quickly fades when he realizes his bed is just as empty as it was when he went to sleep.

He hasn't worked a case since she left. Gus keeps telling him it'll help him forget, but he doesn't believe it. He knows it'll remind him of her. Everything reminds him of her.

And it's only been two days. .

Two days since she packed up all her stuff, kissed him on the cheek and told him she'd be back in two weeks.

Twelve days left.

He has a calender stuck on the wall of the Psych office. He's circled the day she comes back in bright pink sharpie and those markers that smell like cotton candy.

Gus says he's going crazy.

He doesn't deny it, because he's pretty sure that Gus is right. He can't stop thinking about her. He even started looking at round trip tickets to Miami online one day.

He feels like everything is moving in slow motion. He wakes up, he eats breakfast, and he sits around his apartment trying to find something that doesn't make him think of her.

It's an impossible task.

So he mopes around; from his apartment to the Psych office, from the Psych office to his dads house, and then back to his apartment. And finally, _finally_ another day passes.

Eleven days left.

The only time he feels happy is when he's able to cross off another day on the calender. He puts a big fat X through it and smiles.

She calls him on the fourth day. He's so elated to hear her ringtone (He picked it out ten minutes after she got on the plane so he would know exactly when she called) he jumps over his chair to reach his phone as fast as possible.

"Jules!"

He must sound out of breath and possibly kind of crazy because there's a pause, and then she asks if he's okay. He says he's perfectly fine, and then, wanting to skip over explaining why he's been obsessing for the past four days, asks her how the conference is going. She tells him it's fine, and that she's really, _really_ sorry that she hasn't called yet. It's been super hectic down there, and then she adds that she's sure he's been busy with cases too.

He pauses briefly before answering. "Yeah. Really busy."

She doesn't say anything more about it, instead she talks about all the interesting people she's met and how great it is to be back in her hometown.

He knows that's probably the real reason she wanted to go to the conference. Chief Vick said it wasn't necessary for her to go, and they could easily send someone else, but Juliet insisted. It was good for her, she said, and the fact that is was in Miami was a bonus.

He's not entirely listening to what she's saying, he's just glad to hear her voice. He says something that makes her laugh, and all of a sudden it's like he's flying. He didn't even realize how much he missed hearing that wonderful, musical sound that twists his stomach in such a pleasant way.

After a few more minutes she says she has to go, it's late and she needs to sleep because they have to get up ridiculously early in the morning.

He can feel the lump return to his throat, and he nods. It takes him a second to realize that she can't see him, so he just says okay and prepares to hear the telltale click that will tell him she's hung up.

Instead, he just hears silence. And then she laughs.

"I thought you were going to hang up."

He smiles to himself. "Well I thought _you_ were going to hang up."

There's a pause, and then she breaks the silence. "I kind of don't want to hang up."

"Neither do I." He replies.

And so they just sit there in silence. After a while he's pretty sure she's fallen asleep.

"Shawn?"

He was wrong.

"Yeah?"

"I miss you. A lot."

He leans back in his chair and glances up at the calender on the wall.

"I miss you too, Jules."

* * *

**I tried not to make it_ too _mushy.... As you can tell, I failed.**

**The prompt was connection. Much like Flight, I tried to get it across in a rather ninja-like way.**

**I'm not sure if I succeeded.  
**

**Reviews make me feel like superman. Sort of.**

**--Laurie**


	10. Turpentine Kisses and Mistaken Blows

**So my friend Annie requested a fic with Shawn, Juliet, and the beach.**

**I wrote this.**

**A small reference to Lights, Camera, Homicidio in the beginning... Five stars and a pat on the back if you catch it.**

* * *

"Shawn, I'm here. And I've got pudding pops. Where are you?" Juliet slammed her phone shut and groaned. This was the third time this week Shawn had bailed on one of their dates. At least the other times he'd bothered to call and give her some excuse about a case.

After leaving four messages, Juliet decided that it was hopeless. He wasn't going to show, and she should probably head home before it got too dark. She turned to gather up the supplies (they were supposed to have a picnic) and began to stuff it all back into the plastic bags. She was reaching for paper plates when something covered her eyes.

Reacting instinctively she slammed her elbow back into her would-be-attackers stomach and pulled away. She turned around, ready to deliver another blow, and gasped.

"Shawn?"

"My god, Jules... I think you ruptured my spleen."

"That's not even where your spleen is, Shawn."

"Well you definitely injured something." He doubled over in pain, clutching his stomach.

"I'm sorry!" Juliet gently pushed him down onto the picnic bench. "Here, sit down for a minute. You'll be okay."

"I don't know, Jules. You have far too much arm strength."

She smiled softly. "I'm sorry..." She whispered again, wrapping her arm around his shoulders and pulling him close.

"Okay... I feel better now."

Juliet smiled.

"So... you still up for that picnic?" He pulled back from her, reaching onto the table and grabbing the bags.

"You still want to have it?"

Shawn rolled his eyes. "Oh course I still want to have it, Jules." He held one of the bags up. "A little birdie told me there might be pudding pops?"

She laughed. "There's definitely pudding pops. And pineapple upside down cake."

He leaned forward and kissed her temple. "You're the best."

* * *

"Have I ever told you that you're fantastic?" Shawn wrapped his arm around his girlfriends waist and pulled her against his chest.

"Maybe once or twice." Juliet smiled into his shirt.

"Well it's true. You're fantastic." He pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I'm sorry we haven't spent a lot of time together lately."

"Shawn-"

"Just hang on, Jules." He cleared his throat, then continued. "Gus and I were working on this one case that was driving us both up the wall... And I felt like if I took any time off to be with you then we wouldn't have any fun at all because I would be so cranky. And that would make you cranky. And then we'd both just sit around with our crankiness." He paused. "That's a word, right?"

She nodded.

"So I didn't cancel because I wanted to, I canceled because I didn't want to make you mad. I was in a horrible mood both nights, and the last thing I needed was human contact."

Juliet pulled back and stared at his face for a moment.

Shawn frowned. "What?"

She smiled, leaning forward and pressing her lips against his. He responded eagerly, winding both his hands in her hair. She pulled back after several long moments, a wide smile spreading across her face.

"What was that for?"

She gave him another quick kiss before responding. "Thank you. For canceling those dates."

"You know, I've never quite gotten that response before."

She laughed softly. "You said you didn't want to make me mad. That means you were thinking about me before you were thinking about you. And that's really sweet."

"Oh. Well in that case-" He pulled her in again for another kiss. "You are very welcome."

* * *

**I know, I know... it's a little on the short side. But lets be realistic, aren't all my fics?**

**The prompt was 'turpentine kisses and mistaken blows'. I am aware that this is a line from a song (A song I am rather fond of), but I decided to take a more literal approach.**

**I hope this makes some sense. If not, then just ignore the prompt completely and just read the fic again.**


	11. 2 am

Shawn Spencer didn't like waking up early. In fact, he hated it. He thought that anyone who got out of bed before 11 for anything less than a life-or-death emergency was insane.

Unfortunately, his girlfriend didn't have the same policy.

"Yes. I'll be right there."

Shawn let out a groan, rolling over in the bed. He glanced over at Juliet, who was quickly pulling on her jacket. He sighed and gave a muffled plea. "Don't tell me you have to go."

She smiled, laying back down on the covers beside him. "I'm sorry."

"Jules, it's two in the morning. Doesn't Lassie have any sort of a life?"

Even with his face pressed against the mattress, Shawn could hear her laugh. He reached out a hand and intertwined her fingers with his, pulling her closer.

She let out a sigh. "It's really important. It might be connected to our other case."

"Can't you just fake sick again?"

Juliet gasped, giving his shoulder a soft shove. "I have never faked sick."

"So you really were throwing up that day we went to the museum?"

"That was a special day! They had an exhibit about koalas."

Shawn turned over and smiled. "And I know how much you love koalas."

Juliet gave him a light kiss. "I have a weakness for Australian marsupials."

"Then why wouldn't you let me bring home that kangaroo from the fair?"

"That was a rat, Shawn." She sat up and glanced over at the clock. "I really have to go now."

Shawn reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling her back against him. "Five more minutes."

She shook her head, halfheartedly trying to get out of his embrace. "I can't be late."

"Come on, Jules. The guys already dead. What's five minutes going to do?" He dropped a kiss on the top of her head.

She yawned loudly, doing her best to stay awake. "Carlton will be mad." She whispered.

"He's always mad. It won't make a difference."

"Shawn..."

She didn't say anything for a few moments.

Shawn sighed. "Okay, fine. I'm sorry, Jules. You can go if you really want to." He pulled his arms back from her waist, but she didn't move.

"Jules?"

She turned slowly in his arms and buried her face in his chest.

He smiled, and pressed another kiss to her forehead."'Night, Jules."

Her phone continued buzzing for an hour, but neither of them noticed. It wasn't until the light started creeping in through the window that Juliet woke up, but she simply pulled the blinds shut and went back to bed.


	12. Tragedy

**Sorry it's been so long. I watched an episode of Castle while I was sick, and then I was sucked in and now I'm hooked. It's really a fantastic show and you all should watch it.**

**But we should get back to Psych.**

**Another post-Yin fic. They're just really addicting. And fun.**

**Small spoiler for the upcoming season. But if you aren't looking for it, you won't find it. And it doesn't really give away any sort of storyline or anything.**

* * *

It's been over a month. Over a month since she had what she hopes will be the single most traumatizing experience of her life. More than 31 days since she cried her heart out on the top of that clock tower. More than four weeks since she nearly died.

She wishes she could forget.

Sometimes it's easy. Sometimes she wakes up and it takes her almost an hour to remember. Sometimes she gets so wrapped up in a case she doesn't even have time to think about it. Sometimes it just floats out of her brain. Sometimes she's just able to pretend that it never happened. That she's normal. That she's still a bubbly, naive, inexperienced little blond girl who sees the world through rose colored glasses and is able to find the good in everybody.

But she always crashes back down. She'll catch sight of herself in the mirror, and that wonderful, wonderful pretend world she has created will shatter into a million pieces as she stares at her reflection. Her eyes are glassy, with rings underneath them; she hasn't gotten much sleep lately. Her curls still hit just below her shoulders, but they're dark and reflective now, a subdued brown color that allows her to blend in with the crowd so much more.

She's so different now. And it's not just her looks. She knows her personality has changed too. She's quieter, she has less to say in the field and during interrogations. She does the paperwork without any complaints, she only offers when her opinion when it's asked. She does whatever Lassiter suggests, mostly because she doesn't want to have to bother coming up with her own idea. McNab remarks one time that she seems calmer.

He has no idea how wrong he is.

She's the farthest thing from calm. Every second of every day every part of her is on alert. She picks up on things that she probably shouldn't. She doesn't ever turn off her 'cop senses'. She sleeps with her gun next to her bed.

She has a reason for that one, though.

About two weeks after it happened she was woken up in the middle of the night by a loud crash in her kitchen. She lay very still for a moment, listening as footsteps clomped around outside her door. Her first instinct was childish; she wanted to curl up under the covers and shut her eyes as tight as they would go. But then there was another crash and she sat up, realizing that she would actually have to take some sort of action.

She rummaged around on her dresser for her gun, then began to creep towards the door. She'd been sleeping with it open for the past two weeks, so she pressed flat against the wall and peered around the corner. She didn't see anything, so she tried to take a step forward.

Her legs wouldn't move.

She tried again, but she just couldn't do it. She was rooted to the spot.

There was another crash, but it barely registered with her. She leaned against the wall, gently sliding down until she was sitting on the floor. More footsteps sounded, but now they were farther away.

She didn't move for twenty minutes. Just sat there, her head on her knees and her hand tightly gripping the handle of her weapon. It was quiet for a long time. Eventually she realized that the first two crashes were her cat rummaging around in her kitchen. The noises that followed were her imagination. She leaned her head against the wall and closed her eyes.

She woke up the next morning sprawled out on the floor between her doorway, her gun still in her hand.

Now she can't sleep without it. She needs to know it's there, just in case those footsteps become real. It's a nightlight of sorts; her comfort toy. She needs it to get through the days the best she can.

But sometimes there are days where she just can't make it, no matter what she does. There are days when she comes home and just collapses on her couch and cries her eyes out.

She never thought she'd become one of _those_ people. One of the people who she deals with everyday, who she talks to and comforts. She never thought she'd be a victim.

But she is. And she can't seem to move past it. Every time she thinks she's forgotten it, every time she thinks she can really move on, she hears the footsteps again, or sees the masked face and she wants to curl up under the covers and cry.

It's been over a month. But it feels like it was yesterday.

* * *

**More sneaky ninja prompts! Wow, I might be getting good at this.**

******Of course, that's all really up to you guys. What did you think?**  



	13. Laugh

**Well hello there! It's been quite a while, hasn't it? I'm terribly sorry. I just got caught up in school (exams are this week) and then it was season finale time for all my other shows and I needed at least a week to recover from the Fringe finale (OHMYGOD) and well... I was procrastinating. A lot.**

**But now I'm back and (hopefully) going to update on a semi-regular basis.**

**Anyways this one is for Samantha, who requested another fic with Owen in it.**

**Here you go, darling. I hope you like it. :)**

* * *

"Mommy! Can I sit in your chair?" Owen Spencer tugged on the side of his mothers skirt.

Juliet sighed, leaning down to pick him up. She pressed a kiss to his forehead and then nodded her head. "But stay there, Owen. No moving around, okay? Mommy needs to work, and you need to color the rest of your picture." She placed him on the chair, and then reached down and grabbed a small backpack. "Everything you need is in here, okay? If you get hungry, I put a snack in your lunch bag." She leaned over once more and kissed the top of his head. "Now just stay here."

Owen nodded quickly. He'd been to Mommys work before. But that was when he was sick, and she'd just let him sleep in that special room where all the beds were. Today he felt perfectly fine.

Daddy called it a vacation day. But that didn't make any sense. Vacation was when they went to visit Grandma and Grandpa in Florida. Vacation wasn't sitting around at Mommys work all day.

Owen reached into his backpack and pulled out a box of crayons. Mommy hadn't let him use markers since that time Uncle Gus fell asleep and he and Daddy drew all over his face.

Mommy hadn't let Daddy use markers since then either.

Owen poured all the crayons out on the desk and began shuffling through them. A few spilled off the edge of the desk and started rolling across the floor. Owen frowned and stared after them. He watched as the yellow crayon rolled underneath the desk across from Mommys, and the blue bumped against a few pairs of very shiny black shoes before hitting a metal pole.

Owen didn't know what to do. Mommy had told him to stay here, but she had also told him to finish coloring. And he couldn't do that without his crayons, especially not his yellow. What other color was he supposed to make the pineapple? Purple? Mommy had to understand _that_.

So he pushed back from the desk and hopped down onto the floor. By now there were only a few people standing around (earlier there had been way more, and Mommy had to pick him up and carry him to her desk so he wouldn't get lost. Owen got lost a lot.), and so Owen was able to get across the floor without running into anybody. He knelt down and grabbed the blue crayon from underneath the desk, then stood back up and headed for the yellow one. He saw the pole that it had run into a few feet away. He took a few steps towards it, and then stopped.

The pole was attached to something. And not just any something. It was attached to a white board. A white board with at least five different colored markers laying next to it.

Owen really liked white boards. He had a chalkboard at home, but he didn't like the way it made his hands all white or how the chalk sounded when he pressed too hard against the board. But white boards were perfect. They had one at school, and Owen loved it when the teacher would let him draw on it. This board didn't look too different from the one at school, which meant that it was probably okay for him to draw on it. He grabbed a green marker off the table next to him and smiled widely.

* * *

Juliet was having a very rough day. First she had been told that it was absolutely necessary for her to come in to work today for some completely ridiculous reason, then Shawns dad had bailed on babysitting Owen to go on a fishing trip, which both Shawn and Gus had been forced to go on. Juliet then saw that she had no other option but to haul Owen into work with her.

After seating him at her desk and making sure he wasn't going to go anywhere, she had been following Lassiter around the station for hours, trying to offer as much help as she could with their case. It was several hours before she actually had the opportunity to go back upstairs and check on Owen to make sure he wasn't getting into any trouble. And she was several hours too late.

Juliet froze as soon as she got to the top of the steps. The board that almost everyone in the station used to write down information was covered with drawings of people and dogs and all kinds of fruit. There were a few guys standing in front of it laughing and admiring the particularly large drawing of a bird with pink spots on its wings. The laughing stopped as soon as they saw Juliet.

Once he noticed it was quiet, Owen spun around and his face lit up. "Mommy!" He yelled. "Come draw with me!"

The cluster of rookies still standing around snickered softly. Juliet sent them all death glares and slowly shook her head. "Owen, what did I tell you about playing with markers?"

"But I didn't draw on anybody this time!" The six-year-old protested.

"Owen." Juliet took a deep breath, reaching down and taking the markers out of his hands. "No more drawing."

"But, Mommy-"

"I said no, Owen." Juliet picked up the eraser. "Now go get your stuff, we're going home." With that she started to try and wipe off some of the pictures on the board. It didn't work.

She rubbed the eraser harder over the board but the drawings still stayed.

"Owen, what kind of markers did you use?"

The boy thought for a moment before answering. "Well the ones by the board kept coming off when I would hit them so I used the ones on your desk."

Juliet glanced down at what she thought were dry erase markers in her hands. They were Sharpies. "Owen, I can't-"

"O'Hara, what exactly is going on here?"

Juliet quickly turned around and found herself face to face with Chief Karen Vick.

"I drew you a picture!" Owen yelled, bounding over to his mother and the chief.

"I can see that." She smiled softly down at the young boy, then looked back up at Juliet. "O'Hara-"

"I'll buy a new one." She said, placing the markers back on the table.

"Good." The Chief smiled again at Owen, then went back into her office.

The laughter followed the two of them all the way to the parking lot.

* * *

**Well. I'm not totally sure if I like how that turned out, but you guys tell me what you think. Please?**

**Also, to anyone who watches Castle, did the end scene remind any of you guys of An Evening With Mr. Yang? Just the 'Beckett going to tell him how she feels but he's going to the Hamptons with Gina' thing. My mind immediately went to Shawn&Jules at the end of that episode.**

**Maybe I just watch too much Psych.**

**********Reviews would be awesome sauce.**   



	14. Rings

**I have no excuse. I haven't updated in MONTHS and you guys have every right to come at me wth pitchforks and torches.**

**But read this first. Then organize the angry mob, please.**

**It's got Shawn and Gus and some (talked about) Shules.**

* * *

Burton Guster was a big fan of order. Everything had a place, and he knew exactly where it was.

Shawn Spencer never seemed to agree with that. Gus felt like he was forever tidying up after Shawn, especially in the Psych office. Especially today.

When Gus had first walked through the door, he tripped over the pile of Cracker Jack boxes sitting on the floor and nearly face planted into his desk. After regaining his balance, he reached down, grabbed all of the boxes and threw them into the trash can.

"Shawn! How many times do I have to tell you to-" Gus looked up, trying to locate the mess-maker. But the only thing he could see were mountains of Cracker Jack boxes. And bags. And even what looked like soda cans. They were piling up on his desk, on Shawns desk, on the floor, near the windows, on the fridge, anywhere there was even a bit of space. Some of them were opened, some of them were eaten, but most were just sitting there.

"Shawn, what in the world are you doing?"

Shawn poked his head out from behind one of the piles on his desk. "Oh, hey, buddy! Didn't expect you back so soon."

"Shawn, why is there a years supply of Cracker Jacks on my desk?"

Shawn shrugged. "We won it in a contest? Don't tell me you don't enjoy the sugary goodness of caramelized popcorn and peanuts, because I know you do."

Gus shoved some of the boxes off his desk and set down his briefcase. "It doesn't matter if I like it or not, I could eat nothing but Cracker Jacks for breakfast lunch _and_ dinner for a month and still have some left in here."

"Oooh, that sounds like a good experiment. Lets try it. It'll be like Supersize Me, except we'll be eating nothing but Cracker Jacks. And no one will ask us if we'd like to supersize it. And we can maybe do some Fla-Vor-Ices on the side."

"Shawn!"

"You're the one that suggested it!"

"What are these doing in here?"

Shawn stood up slowly, carefully making his way across the room towards where Gus stood. "I need a ring."

"A ring? Don't tell me you're going back to that 'punk' phase. That wasn't a good idea in high school, and it isn't a good idea now."

"No, dude, it's not for me!" He stopped in the middle of the room and ran a hand through his hair. "It's for Jules."

"I thought her birthday was in October..."

"It is! It's not a birthday ring it's a... _ring_ ring."

Gus leaned back on the desk. "You mean an _engagement_ ring?"

"Is that what the kids are calling it these days?"

"Shawn-"

"Don't. Stop. You're gonna talk me out of it."

"I just want to make sure-"

"What, that I'm ready? Why do you think I bought all these Cracker Jacks?"

"Because you enjoy caramelized popcorn and peanuts?"

"No! Well, yes." Shawn finally made it across the room and slid against the desk. "I told my dad I wanted to propose, and he said that I wasn't ready for that. Dude, I really love her. You know that, right?"

"Of course."

"Well I told my dad that and he said that it didn't matter, and I was gonna screw it up some how. And then he said I probably didn't have enough money to even buy her a ring. And he was all 'You'll have to start saving up for one now.' But I don't wanna wait like six months and _then_ do it, you know? I sort of just wanna tell her now. Because I'm ready _now._"

Gus was starting to see where this story was going.

"So I said I even if I didn't have enough money I could still get her one. And he was all 'Are you gonna give her that Spiderman ring you found in this mornings Frosted Flakes?'. And I totally would except Jules is more of a Batman girl. So I was all 'Maybe I'll just give her my Thundercats one from when I was like 8'-"

"The one with the secret compartment?"

Shawn grinned. "Yeah, wasn't that one just awesome? Anyway, so he said I lost that like twenty years ago,which I definitely didn't. I just can't find it now. I said I could probably find her a Cracker Jack ring, and my dad said the odds of that happening were just astronomical, so I bought a ton of boxes to prove him wrong. I figure at least one of them has got to have a ring. So far all I've gotten is tattoos and one weird pencil topper that was shaped like George Washington." He reached onto Gus' desk and grabbed another box.

"Um, Shawn?"

Shawn stuffed a handful of popcorn in his mouth and looked up at Gus. "Yeah?"

"You know they don't make Cracker Jack rings any more, right?"

* * *

******Alright. Now you guys can kill me. Gently, please.**  



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